Mind Over Matter
by Gayle Forsse1
Summary: Two years after the death of Admiral Marcus, one of his former colleagues continues his work toward war with the Klingon Empire. I own nothing but the original characters, of which there are many. Khan will play an integral part, once he makes an appearance.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note - This is my first attempt at fan fiction. I am by no means a Trekkie but this story has been banging around inside my head since I saw the movie. If I have made any errors, please let me know. This is set after Into Darkness. I hope you like it and please, Please, PLEASE review! I welcome all comments and suggestions. **

**Thanks so much!**

**Gayle**

**Chapter 1**

The shadows lengthened as the sun set behind the gleaming towers of London. It had been two very long years for the citizens, putting their lives back together after the bombing, and of course the rebuilding of Starfleet Headquarters after the wanton death and destruction caused by John Harrison. After Captain Kirk's report about the events surrounding the crashing of the U.S.S. Vengeance and Admiral Marcus's involvement, Starfleet began a massive investigation and, finding that no less than seven other admirals were complicit in Marcus's actions, a purge of all "negative elements."

Admiral Felicia Coulter barely escaped the purge. She had managed to convince the investigatory committee that she had been a hapless victim in all this. That she had been used by Marcus and his cronies. That she would never have willfully betrayed the Federation and its ideals…Barely. Some of the committee members hadn't believed her but there was no real evidence against her. She was much too clever to let the dirt touch her in any way. It had been her idea to wake Khan Noonien Singh. Her idea to force him to build the weapons they wanted. She had planned on killing him and his precious crew just as soon as he finished the Vengeance. But she had underestimated him. She had not counted on his insane strength or his steadfast loyalty. This was not a mistake she would make again. She had another plan, another victim and a much better way of controlling her.

Striya ran as fast as she could. She had to escape! She was all that was left. The others…She forced the thought from her mind. She could not think about the others now. She burst from the alley onto the darkened streets of London. She rushed toward a crowd gathered on the far side of the street. She darted between hover cars, ignoring the blaring horns, and sliding under one as she strove to lose herself in the mass of Earth's humanity. She picked herself up and ran, willing the crowd to part. She heard the "Ptew" of phasers as she slipped into the minuscule fissure in the crowd she had managed to create. She knew they were set to stun, the admiral wouldn't risk killing her, especially now that she was the only one left. She exited the crowd and slipped into another alley. She ran the length of it, desperately searching for someplace to hide. She could hide easily, even in plain sight, if it weren't for the Device.

A burst of intense pain brought her to her knees. They had caught up to her. The deceptively small cerebral implant severely weakened her powers. The Device allowed them to deliver a massive electric shock directly to the pain center of her fragile brain. Stars exploded behind her eyes and her ears rang as the Device activated again. The little amber light flashed gently as the Device betrayed her location. She had managed to shut it off before, using her mind, but it had left her so very weak. She didn't think she could do it again. Her head snapped back as she writhed in agony. The man stood over her, his thick finger holding down the button, his wolfish grin grotesque in the dim, flashing light. Striya lay on the cold cement begging him to stop. Finally he did. She pressed her hands flat to the ground and tried to push herself up. He reached for her, grabbing her hair and lifting her to her feet as the earth collapsed beneath them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Admiral Coulter sat at her desk, looking over the progress reports for the last round of experiments. They were disappointing, to say the least. The attempts to analyze the subjects' brains and determine how they manipulated matter had left the subjects trapped inside their own minds. They could not move or speak, but their brain activity was off the charts…They were screaming inside their heads. She did not know what had caused this or how to reverse it…Perhaps if she studied the brain of Subject 03-956-8…the child known as Striya? She pulled open the file on Striya. The Admiral read aloud her notes on the Endrean girl.

_"Subject 03-956-8, female, 23 terran years old from Endrey VII, the largest planet of the seventeen planets that makes up the Endribar star system. Endribar has recently been accepted into the United Federation of Planets. Like other inhabitants of this planet, Subject exhibits mental powers greater even than the Vulcans. These abilities have manifested as telekinesis. The very powerful could control their ships with just a thought. Subject is an orphan, obtained by force, and brought to Earth. Subject is showing signs of resisting the control of the Device. Subject is perhaps the key."_

It was this skill that the Admiral wanted, control of ships and other large objects. The child had not suffered the same paralysis as the others. She had somehow managed to deactivate the Device…How? Admiral Coulter tapped the surface of her data pad, opening the files on Khan's designs. The files had been confiscated and destroyed by Starfleet but Coulter had obtained copies beforehand. She opened the file on the Device. With a flick of her fingers, she sent the images and documents in the file to the six large screens set into the opposite wall. Manipulating the file with her pad, she studied the information that she had already spent many hours studying. She tossed her data pad down in frustration a few minutes later. She still had no idea how the girl had disabled the Device. When Becker returned with the girl, perhaps she would be able to get new information.

Striya coughed, chocking as dust clogged her airway. She struggled to rise. She lay pinned under a rather large slab of concrete. To her left, a meter away, laid the man, Becker. He groaned and started to stir. Striya struggled harder, lest he awake before she escaped. It was no use; she could never move such a large stone. She closed her eyes, willing her head to stop aching. She placed her hands flat against the rock. Slowly, it rose a few centimeters…enough for her to scurry out from under it. When she was away from her prison, she dropped the rock, rolled over and vomited violently. This Device…she would always be hunted whilst she wore it. She sat up, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. She had fallen into some kind up disused tunnel. She stood and followed one tunnel, her hands on the wall to steady herself. She heard footsteps behind her and started to run. Becker was awake. The tunnel led to a hub of sorts. Tunnels branched in all directions. Striya looked around, unsure what direction to take. She chose one at random and disappeared into the darkness. She stopped about fifty meters inside the tunnel and listened. She could hear nothing. Maybe Becker had chosen a different tunnel? She hoped so.

She moved forward cautiously, afraid of running into Becker again if the tunnels crossed. She stumbled in the near darkness. The lights in the tunnels flickered more often than they shone. She peered into the dark. She jumped back and screamed as the lights flickered on, revealing the terribly white face of a man, mere centimeters from her own. The lights dimmed again and she could see nothing, but she felt large strong hands grip her around the waist and she felt herself lifted and tossed over a huge shoulder. The man carried her down the tunnel, moving quickly in the dark. As he moved she heard the soft whir of several motors and the hiss-hiss of hydraulics. He opened the door to a maintenance tunnel and walked through. Striya stayed silent across his shoulder, more afraid of Becker than of this strange fellow. Finally they came to the end of their journey. He dropped her on the ground and lifted a huge steel beam that had fallen across the tunnel. He grasped her and shoved her through the opening. She stumbled into a large room lit with soft white light. The gargantuan man followed with a resounding crash as he dropped the girder back into its former place.

"Who are you?" Striya asked quietly, her alien tongue speaking English in a much accented but perfectly understandable way. The man said nothing but merely grunted.

"I am Striya, from Endrey VII," she tried again. The man turned and looked at her closely, but still said nothing.

The man's skin was completely white and seemed to glow in the gentle light. And yet, half of his face looked dull and dead. Both eyes were blue but one shone brighter than the other. One huge cold dead hand grasped her roughly by the shoulder and slammed her up against the wall. The other pressed a strange metal device into her neck. She heard a loud hiss-pop, and her vision blurred as the most intense pain she had ever felt raced throughout her whole body. Her mouth contorted in a scream that bounced around the tunnels endlessly, never reaching the surface.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note – I know you are all expecting Khan to be involved and, I promise, he will be soon. As always, please read and review. Many thanks, Gayle**

**Chapter 3**

Striya took a deep breath, in and out. Her throat felt sore and tight, like she had been screaming. She didn't remember…She took another deep breath, in and out. She opened her eyes, blinking rapidly and sitting up. Her whole body felt as her throat felt, hot and tight, like sunburn. She was sitting on what looked like a berth from a medical bay, but it was ancient and rusted. The cracked padding squeaked in protest as she swung her legs over the side and stood up. She clutched the rusted steel railing of the bed as a wave of nausea hit her hard. She swayed on her feet for a few seconds while the nausea passed.

"Nanites, they do that," said a deep gravelly voice behind her. She spun around, catching sight of a massive shadow in the gloom. The movement threw she stomach into fresh convulsions and she dropped to her knees and vomited. The shadow shambled further into the light. Her eyes grew wide as she took in his hideous appearance. Man was not the proper term. He was more than half metal. His left half of his face and his right arm and shoulder were of lackluster metal, as was everything below the waist. His left leg was shorter than his right, which accounted for his unusual gait. He looked more rust than anything else, and his flesh looked black and necrotic. The robotic eye in the left side of his face roved ceaselessly. The right eye was the only part of this tortured amalgam that seemed alive. Where his right hand and wrist should have been, there was a large cylinder, with six cylinders arranged around the outside surface. The center of the main cylinder was a dark hole.

She turned away and was sick again. Her hair drooped forward and his hand swept it up and out of the way. She sat back on her heels and murmured, "What did you do to me?"

"I injected you with G-165. Nanites. They told me all about you. Don't worry, they are harmless, mostly. I have never seen a reaction like yours before."

"You could have just asked."

"And give you a chance to lie?"

Her brows furrowed at this remark but she held her tongue. She didn't feel up to a fit of temper.

"I suppose you're hungry, girl." Striya didn't answer right away, still focused on her study of the man. Atlas reached out and tapped her cheek gently with an ice cold finger. Striya jumped and looked the strange being in the face.

"Are you hungry, Striya?" She nodded silently. This was the first time anyone had said her name in over a year. He handed her a bowl and spoon, just taken from the replicator.

"The replicator is damaged," he said, "the only thing it makes is Goeshiu* soup."

"Thank you," Striya responded. She ate anxiously, her eyes flicking over to her new companion.

"My name is Atlas. I am a cyborg, from Planet Tsusow. I came to Earth many years ago, when my planet was destroyed by an exploding star. He explained. As she ate the concoction, which was strange, sweet and spicy, but not unpleasant, his arm rotated and a scanner immerged from the hole at the end of his arm. He shone the green light over the Device in her head. After several minutes of minute examination, he put the scanner away. He turned away from her and shambled across the room. She heard the beeping as buttons were pressed and a massive computer screen added its harsh light to the room. He motioned her toward a tall three-legged stool. She sat and watched him as he bustled around. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the new level of light and she studied this strange man more closely. His arm rotated again and he connected directly to the computer.

Atlas muttered to himself, apparently forgetting that she was there. He manipulated the computer, information flashing across the screen in a language that Striya could not read. Her picture appeared on the screen. Atlas looked from the picture to her and back again. She didn't see the grin on his hideous face after he returned his gaze to the screen. A reward poster appeared in the screen, offering a large quantity of gold pressed latinum to anyone who found her.

"Lotta latinum for you, girl. Someone wants you bad. What did you do?"

"I escaped."

*Goeshiu (pronounced go-shoe) in a common soup found on the now dead planet of Tsusow. It consists of both spicy and sweet elements, and when made correctly, is so thick it is almost solid.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Thanks to those who reviewed. I hope you enjoy this new chapter. I promise, you won't have to wait much longer for Khan to make an appearance. As always, please read and review. Many thanks, Gayle.**

**Chapter 4**

Striya sat on her stool, looking very nervous, her bowl empty and forgotten in her hands, her food a cold lump in her stomach. Her new companion, Atlas, had informed her that she was wanted. She explained why and looked for some response. She got none, so far. Atlas stood silent and pensive, his machinery whirring and clicking softly. It was an incredible amount of gold-pressed-latinum…anyone would be tempted to turn her in. If he wanted to, there would be nothing she could do to stop him.

"You said you have telekinetic powers?" He asked. She nodded

"Could they be used to do repair work?"

"Oh yes, it's very common on my world. It is used often in situations where it would be too dangerous to send in a person. To repair radiation leaks for example."

"Could you repair the connection between the memory circuits of a cyborg's positronic network and his flesh brain? It is very delicate work."

"If I had a diagram to follow, I am sure I could reestablish the connections."

"I will make you a deal." Atlas said, after a moment's thought. "There is not one doctor or engineer on this planet that could do the repair work I need done. If you can do it, I won't turn you in. I'll even help you get that device out of your head."

"It's a deal." Striya said, holding out her hand. She remembered the old Earth custom of the handshake. Atlas stared at her, bewildered. Striya put her hand down and just shrugged. Atlas moved back to the computer and opened a file. It was information on the connections in his head that needed to be repaired.

"I can't remember more than half of my life," the cyborg explained. "Only bits and pieces. I cannot recall how my body is supposed to be maintained or repaired, neither the flesh nor the metal."

Striya nodded. She stood at his computer and studied the file carefully for many hours. This _was_ delicate work. More delicate than manipulating atoms and molecules to repair the damage to a ship's hull, or rebuilding burned away circuitry. This would be difficult to do, even for an elder at full strength. She wasn't sure she would be capable of such subtle work with the Device interfering with her powers. She opened the diagram showing where each nerve connected to each microprocessor, to each electrode, to each wire.

She brought her hand behind her head and touched the outside casing of the Device. It was warm to the touch, from her body heat. She reached in with her mind, searching for the right switch. She had found it last time, merely by accident. The Device, once implanted, uses the electrical impulses of the wearer's brain for power. She poked and prodded with her mind. She remembered what it looked like; she had to disable the connection. This was done by finding a specific nerve. Once she found it, she could temporarily stun it, this would put the Device off-line, temporarily. When feeling returned to the nerve, the Device would reestablish contact.

After she managed to deactivate the Device, she called Atlas over. He sat on the floor and she stood behind him. She placed her hands on top of his head and closed her eyes. She peered into his brain, her powers painting an image in her mind of what her eyes couldn't see, like a bat using echolocation. She saw the damaged wires and circuits, the scar tissue, the dead brain cells and hesitated.

"There is much damage," she said aloud to Atlas, "It will require more than one session." She mumbled to herself, opening her eyes and looking at the diagram again.

"Where is the best place to start?" Atlas, pointed with his flesh arm.

"There, grid reference Iota-47. That is the damage closest to the brain core. Start there and work out." She nodded and began.

After removing the scar tissue from the first cerebral-positronic connection, she melded the nerve to the wires. Atlas groaned and twitched in pain. Striya moved from nerve to nerve, dissolving the dead tissue, reestablished old connections, and making new ones when necessary. She had completed ten connections when Atlas, crying out in awful, half-mechanical agony, begged her to stop.

She did, removing her hands and wiping her palms on her thighs. She helped Atlas to lay back. He closed his blue flesh eye and his breathing slowed dramatically. His flesh arm pointed to a darkened doorway. He waved her away and his arm dropped to his side. His limbs twitched, clicked, and droned, reacting to impulses that he hadn't been felt in years. Striya followed his waving hand, stepping through the doorway.

As she stepped over the threshold, a single light flickered on. There was a single simple cot. It was huge. Obviously, this is where Atlas usually slept. She rushed to the waste receptacle, and hunched over it, vomiting, as the Device reconnected to the nerves in her head. After a few moments, the sick feeling passed and she stood up, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. She looked through the doorway at Atlas stretched out on the floor. She smiled to herself and laid down to rest.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: This is mostly a transition chapter. I know the story has been a bit slow up til now, but after this chapter it should pick up. Those of you holding out until the story gets better, you won't have long to wait. Thanks to everyone. Please read and review. Thanks, Gayle**

**Chapter 5**

Admiral Coulter was furious. Becker had returned without the girl, saying he had lost her in the ancient tunnel network beneath London known as the Labyrinth. Once used as a way for the Royals, the Prime Minister, and other important officials to escape during the fifth World War, they had been abandoned after First Contact. There were thousands of kilometers of tunnels, a massive network connecting several impregnable bunker complexes. There was an old legend that said that these tunnels connected all of England and even ventured onto the continent and the Americas. These tunnels were shielded against all tracking technology. For this reason, they were often used by criminals. Coulter knew of the extensive criminal underworld operating in the tunnels. That was the reason for the Wanted poster. The child should have been returned to her in very short order, but it had been two days and there had been no word. She threw her data pad across her office, stifling a scream of frustration.

As Federation relations with the Endrean system progressed and improved, it was becoming harder and harder to secure test subjects…There hadn't been a shipment in three months. It didn't look like there would be more for a long time yet. If her experiments were to move forward, she had to have that girl. If the cutthroat dregs of London couldn't find her, or wouldn't turn her in…there was no way to find her in the Labyrinth.

Striya spent the last two hours repairing more of Atlas's memory. She was always sick after and he hadn't risen from the floor in all that time. As his brain was repaired, his limbs twitched incessantly, leaving his flesh exhausted. Striya fed him Goeshiu soup when his arms trembled so much he couldn't feed himself. She grew to adore the thick concoction; there seemed to be new flavors every time she ate it. Atlas, in between sessions, showed her the massive computer system he had hacked into. They searched for any information about the Device. They described it to his contacts, but no one had seen anything like it. They still had no idea how to remove it.

Atlas had been attempting to break into the Starfleet mainframe but as yet had been unsuccessful. Striya still had sixty percent of his brain to repair and each session left her weaker and weaker. Her mind was burning out. If they did not find a way of removing the device soon, she would die.

Striya pushed herself harder, finishing the repair work on another nerve-processor connection. Finally, after over a month, she was almost finished. Atlas was looking better and better every day, as his mind remembered how his body was supposed to work. Just three more connections and she would be finished. A light flashed on the screen, indicating an incoming message. Atlas answered it. It was Lieutenant Eric Seymour, a human contact within Starfleet. He had promised to look for information regarding the Device.

"I believe I have found what you are looking for, Atlas." He said, after the customary greetings were exchanged.

"I managed to get myself put in charge of disk burns. That is where we scrub all of the info from old hard drives and reformat them." He explained, winking cheekily at Striya. She liked the young lieutenant very much and he tried very hard to make her laugh.

"Well, what did you find?" Atlas asked in exasperation of his young friend's antics. There is nothing like a pretty girl to turn a clever young man into a moron.

"I set up an algorithm that scans each file before it was scrubbed. I found this on a Starfleet back up drive. A memo flashed on the screen. It was from Admiral Marcus to Admiral Coulter. In it, they discussed a man called Khan, who, apparently, was designing weapons for them. Among the devices detailed in the missive, was one labeled, 'PRD-m-IV', or the Prisoner Remand Device, mark 4. I scanned the rest of the drive and there was no other mention of it, but this has got to be what you are looking for." Eric finished speaking. Striya nodded, smiling at the lieutenant.

"That certainly sounds like it. Where can we get more information? Are you sure there were no other files that could help?"

"No, sawry, dawrlin'," said, Eric, breaking into a southern accent. Striya laughed.

"The message is from Admiral Marcus to Admiral Coulter. I know Marcus is dead. Could Coulter be the one who is running the experiments?" Atlas interrupted Eric's terrible imitation. Striya turned to look at him, still giggling.

"I don't know," she said, "I never knew anyone's name. Wouldn't hurt to poke around a bit. We might get lucky."

"Yes, I'll see if I can break her encryption. If she is the one running these experiments, she is going to have a lot of security. Thanks Eric."

"Yes, thank you Lieutenant." Striya said

"Now Striya, How many times have I told you to call-" Atlas disconnected the communicator, cutting him off. Striya just rolled her eyes as Atlas glared at her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note - Sorry it took so long to upload this chapter. I hope the events in this chapter aren't too predictable. I hope you enjoy it, and as always, read and review. Thanks to those who have reviewed; you are awesome! **

**Chapter 6**

Admiral Coulter wrinkled her nose in disgust. Klingons were revolting beings. She sat listening to this puffed up peacock of a Klingon go on and on, about whatever the hell he was talking about. Klingons wanted war as much as she did. She didn't even want the Federation to win the war. She wanted the galaxy in a complete shambles. She wanted it destroyed, so she could step in and pick up the pieces, so she could mold the galaxy into an empire. She rolled her eyes as her translator; a young slave from Astorie began to repeat quietly in English what the Klingon said in Klingonese.

She smiled winningly and responded, using every trick she knew as a negotiator. Finally, the Klingons agreed. They would begin to raid Federation planets. _Things are progressing rather well_, she thought.

While Admiral Coulter plotted the demise of the Federation and the rise of the Coulter Imperion, as she thought of it, Atlas, now carrying a fully repaired brain, led Striya through the tunnels toward an old entrance into the subbasement of the new Starfleet Headquarters. The lights in this section had been taken permanently out of commission. On his right shoulder, a tiny hatch opened and a small bright light extended, lighting their way perfectly. He had night vision in his robotic eye, but it took a toll on his power reserves.

"I thought that they rebuilt Starfleet last year," Striya asked, bewildered.

"They did. How were they to know that they built it right over the exit of tunnel 315B?" Atlas grinned, pulling some debris away from a battered door that read "Emergency Exit: Do Not Block". He still looked a bit grotesque, but his skin was slowly regaining a look of health and Striya had attacked the rest of him with a bottle of rust remover. He still hobbled when he walked. They had been scouring the nearby waste processing plant and junk stores, looking for a limb that was the correct size and strong enough to support his weight. They had yet to be successful. There weren't too many robotic limbs to be had, and most were too small.

Atlas's right arm rotated and a small listening device extended. He pressed the device against the door. The device worked by picking up vibrations and transmitting them to the brain. He heard nothing. A red light flashed languidly, indicating that the alarm on the other side of the door was still active. He retracted the device and tapped on the door with his hand. He waited a few minutes and tapped on the door again. The light darkened, and the door screeched slowly open. Eric's short red curly hair poked through the space, his dark skin lit by the torch on Atlas's shoulder. He held out his hand to Striya and helped her to shimmy through the doorway. Atlas looked at the doorway and down at his large frame. No way was he going to fit. Eric was introducing himself to Striya in person, holding her hand, and flashing his trademark grin. Both seemed oblivious to Atlas's plight. Striya jumped a mile as Atlas ripped the door open fully, its rusted hinges screaming and giving way under the abuse. Atlas stepped through the now accessible doorway.

"If you two are finished staring longingly into each other's eyes, perhaps we can do what we came here to do?

Making a silly face at Striya, Eric led the way through the disused subbasement and to an old service lift.

"The Admiral will be away for another five hours at least. I tried to find out where she was going and why but anyone who knows isn't talking. I was afraid to ask any more questions, if they find out about this…"

His sentence ended in a shrug as the three climbed into the lift. Eric pushed the button. This lift started its slow progress upward.

"This will take us to the one hundred and sixteenth floor; we'll have to hoof it from there, but it's only a few more flights to the Admiral's office.

The lift stopped and the doors opened with an audible hiss.

"The place should be pretty much deserted this time of night. Give me a minute to spoof the security recorders.

He pulled out a tricorder and, waiting for the motion detectors to begin sweeping another area of the room, crossed to a nearby terminal, carefully avoiding the cameras. He popped open the bottom of the console and scanned it with the tricorder, peering over his shoulder to make sure the detection devices were mot already making their return trip. He scanned the wires and disks in the console, the tricorder telling him which ones to pull out and replace. He froze as the motion sensor came within range. He waited until it passed and then nodded to Striya and Atlas, who waited anxiously in the lift chamber. He joined them and led them to the stairwell. Six flights of stairs and they came to Admiral Coulter's office.

"Go ahead," said, Eric, after fiddling with the tricorder and the lock on the door. Atlas and Striya slipped inside, followed by Eric, he pulled the door mostly shut and pressed and ear to it. He stood, listening intently for any indication that they were not alone. Atlas plugged into Coulter's computer and began sifting through the truly impressive amount of data stored there. Striya began searching for paper files. She found none. After two hours of searching, Atlas found a series of files with serious encryption. He set to work attempting to break the encryption on the files. Suddenly, Eric hissed at them.

"The Admiral, she's back!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note - Aha! Finally a bit of action, lol! This chapter is quite a bit longer than the others. I changed the ending of this chapter. I like this a lot better. I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think. As always, please read and review. I love hearing what you guys think of it. Many thanks, Gayle**

**Chapter 7**

Eric's frantic whisper seemed to echo in the silence of the office. They froze, panic warring with reason as the fight or flight response kicked in. Eric turned and waved them on.

"Go, go, go! Get out of here! I'll try to stall her!"

"But, Eric…Won't you get in trouble? She can't find you here either."

"I'll be fine, babe. Just go!" He said, grasping her shoulders and shoving her toward the emergency exit. "Just get back underground as fast as you can. I'll meet up with you, soon. Go!"

Eric turned and sprinted across the office; he eased the door open and slipped out, shutting the door firmly behind him. Admiral Coulter rounded the corner, striding toward her office. She carried a data pad in one hand and a mug of hot coffee in the other. She didn't notice Eric at first; she was so engrossed in the information on her data pad. Eric slipped up to the nearest desk in the bullpen and picked up the first data pad he came across. He mimicked the Admiral's movements, dropping his head and acting as if the information on the pad was of the utmost importance. He walked quickly toward the Admiral, running smack into her. He knocked the coffee mug from her hand, spilling it down the front of her uniform. He affected clumsiness, dropping his own data pad and knocking hers to the ground also.

"Oh, I am so sorry, Admiral. I'm so sorry! I'm so damn clumsy, Ma'am. Please, forgive me!" He stuttered, dabbing at the Admiral's clothing with a handkerchief.

"Get your hands off of me, Lieutenant!" She said, shoving Eric away. He tripped and fell backward, landing hard on his backside. He scrabbled forward, collecting the two data pads and wiping the coffee from them. He stood, handing one back to the Admiral.

"I am so sorry, Admiral. Please, you won't report this?"

"I damn well will report this, Lieutenant! What's your name? Don't you know to salute a superior officer?"

Eric snapped to attention and threw a perfect salute.

"Lieutenant Eric Seymour, Ma'am."

"What are you doing here? No one is on duty this time of night." Asked the Admiral tersely.

"I work in disk scrubbing. I was verifying some files from this department that were labeled for deletion." Eric lied.

"There must have been some mistake, Lieutenant. There are no files from this department set to be scrubbed. Talk to your immediate superior in the morning. Now clean up this mess and get the hell out of here."

"Yes, Admiral, right away, Ma'am," said Eric, saluting sharply. As the Admiral turned away, she tucked the data pad under her arm and turned on her heel. Eric looked down at eh pad in his hands. "_Property of Admiral F. Coulter_", it read. He had managed to switch them. She strode to her office and opened the door. Eric didn't waste any time. He left the spilt coffee and ran to the stairwell. He burst through the door and raced down the stairs, taking them three at a time. Admiral Coulter walked into her office and looked around suspiciously. The lights were on…She knew she had turned them off before she left. They were set to come on automatically when someone entered the room. Someone had been in here. She raced to her computer and opened the logs for the last few hours.

She was right! Someone had accessed her files on Khan and her new experiments, which she called "Operation Mind Over Matter", while she was out. The log indicated that the encryption wasn't broken but the files were downloaded anyway. That shouldn't have been possible. Whoever had been in the system was very good to have bypassed her safeguards. She opened a drawer and pulled out a communicator.

"Becker, this is Admiral Coulter. Respond."

"Go ahead Admiral."

"The files on the Operation have been stolen. I caught someone here, a Lieutenant Eric Seymour, from Data Maintenance. Find him and bring him to me at the lab. And try not to kill him, alright? I need to know what he knows."

"Yes, Admiral," Becker acknowledged his new orders.

Admiral Coulter closed the communicator and placed it gently on the desk. She leaned back in her chair and sat thinking. This was an interesting development. Eric Seymour had to know about her missing subject. Might even know where she was hiding. She reached under her desk and pushed a button hidden underneath. A shelf on the bookcase across the room shimmered and disappeared. Hidden behind the facade was a series of devices. Among them was a large clear jar. Admiral Coulter walked to the shelf and hefted the jar in her hand. She couldn't stop the grin from spreading over her face. She chuckled and held the jar to the light. This would be fun.

Eric hit a street a few minutes later and began running. He had a feeling that the Admiral would send people after him. She was sure to know by now that someone had been in her office and she would assume it was he who had stolen her files. He looked at the data pad in his hand. He had to get the information to Atlas. He didn't know how much he had been able to download. He didn't know if there was even anything on the data pad that was of use.

He ran all the way to his quarters in the southern tower of the McKay Complex, where most of Starfleet was housed. It was a massive building, surrounded by other equally huge buildings. He could hardly stand still while waiting for the lift to take him to his floor. Finally the doors hissed open and he bolted out, nearly knocking down another lieutenant.

"Hey, watch where you're going, Seymour!" "Sorry, Kowalski!" The two shouted simultaneously. Kowalski shook his head, what had gotten into him? He was normally a pretty laid back kinda guy. He watched the retreating figure of Eric Seymour for a few more minutes before turning back to the turbo lift. He was almost bowled over again as an older man with a short neat beard barreled out of the lift the second the doors opened. The man grabbed Kowalski by the throat and pushed him up against the wall.

"Eric Seymour, where are his quarters?" When Kowalski didn't answer right away, Becker shook him.

"Answer me, boy!" Kowalski raised a finger and pointed down the hall. "Show me," Becker shoved Kowalski in front of him and forced the young lieutenant to lead the way to Eric's quarters.

Eric rushed through his quarters, throwing himself down in his desk chair and plugging the data pad into his computer terminal. He downloaded the information into an encrypted message, tacked on a short message of his own and sent it streaking on its way to Atlas. Because of such a large amount of information, it was going to take some time. Eric knew if it were stopped before all of the information was sent, all of the data would be corrupted. He grabbed his rucksack and threw a few things into it. He changed into street clothes and headed for the door. He passed his computer as he did. He turned off the monitor, hoping that it would not be immediately noticeable. He picked up the data pad; it was useless to him now. He dropped it on the floor and crushed the delicate technology under his boot. He stepped out into the hallway, just as Becker and Kowalski rounded the corner, Kowalski saw Seymour first. Kowalski could tell something wasn't right about the man wearing a building security officer's uniform. He attempted to shout out a warning to his colleague. His warning died with him. As soon as Becker caught sight of Seymour, he grabbed Kowalski around the throat and twisted. Seymour heard the bones break from where he was. He cringed, a pang of regret stabbing him. He felt responsible for Kowalski's death.

He didn't have time to dwell on it however, with Becker barreling down on him like a juggernaut. He ran for the lift. He stepped inside a moment before the doors closed. He pushed the button for the ground floor and waited anxiously as the lift descended. He stepped out into the lobby of his apartment building and started running. Becker stepped out of a lift a few feet away and gave chase. He ran down the street, Becker just a few feet behind. He jumped a fence, darted out into the late night traffic. The vehicle beside him pinged and fizzled as a blast from a phaser made contact a few inches away. He didn't know where he could go. He had never been to Atlas's hideout and wasn't going to lead Becker there.

He leapt another fence, running into Cochran Park. He hoped the trees and other foliage would give him more cover. Wood splintered beside him, letting him know that his pursuer was not far behind. He would head for the bridge. Perhaps he can lose himself in the many shining towers and apartment buildings on the other side. He yelped as the phaser made contact, driving him to the ground, the brunt of the blast absorbed by his rucksack. He stumbled to his feet and kept running. He smelled the noxious scent of burnt cloth.

He leapt a turnstile, dashing on to the footpath to the left side of the bridge. He brushed past a couple out for a late night stroll. His legs pumped like pistons and his breathing grew ragged as he raced up the gentle incline of the bridge. Another blast from a phaser erupted against the steel cables supporting the bridge. He winced when the heat from the blast seared his arm as he ran past it. He jumped up on the railing of the bridge, trying to bypass the cables and put more barriers between him and his pursuer. He made it only a few meters before he was felled by another well-aimed phaser blast. He groaned and toppled from bridge, falling several meters as his limbs deadened and his senses failed him. He hit the water with a thunderous splash and sank slowly beneath the icy cold water.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note - Sorry for the wait, but here it is, Chapter 8 (Finally!) I have to issue a warning for this chapter. Don't worry, its nothing explicit. If you are a bit squeamish, you might want to just skim over the middle section, between the horizontal lines. Like I said, nothing really, just kinda gross. Thank you to those who have reviewed, you are the life's blood of this story. I hope you enjoy the latest chapter! As always, please read and review. **

**Many thanks,**

**Gayle**

**PS - If you have already read chapter 7, you might want to go back and read it again. I changed the ending a bit. I hope you like it.**

**Chapter 8**

Striya looked nervously over her shoulder for the hundredth time. Atlas held her hand in his and propelled her quickly through the darkened streets of London.

"Stop that," he hissed, "you'll attract attention!" She faced forward, gnawing at her bottom lip. Every second, she expected alarms to blare out their presence; she expected a multitude of red clad security officers to descend on them, shouting for them to halt. Nothing happened; the night remained calm, cool, and quiet.

"Atlas, what about Eric?" She whispered, terrified of the answer. Atlas didn't answer right away.

"Let's get you back underground. It's not safe for you on the street."

"That's not an answer... "Striya murmured, her voice breaking, tears threatening to fill her eyes. Her limbs felt like jelly. Her chest constricted as horrible thoughts flooded her mind.

"If he's been hurt because of me... "

Atlas stopped suddenly and faced her. He reached out with his hand and grasped the back of her head, tilting her face up so he could look into her eyes.

"Don't do this, Striya. Eric is smart and resourceful. I'm sure he's fine. Just waiting on word from us. Now let's get you back into the safety of the tunnels." She nodded, comforted by his words and his presence. Taking her hand again, he led her down into the Labyrinth.

In a darkened alley beneath a burnt out street light, a tiny red light glowed. The man took a long slow drag on his cigarette, blowing the thin smoke out a nose disfigured by scars. He grinned maliciously, consulting a first generation data pad. His grin widened, revealing black rotten teeth. He watched Striya disappear underground, followed by her gargantuan protector. He flicked his cigarette end into the street, where it continued to glow. Pulling the hood of his long coat further over his face, he melted into the darkness, chuckling to himself.

* * *

At first it had been dark, a cool delicious darkness that wrapped him in its cocoon and protected him and held him safe. But all too soon, the darkness shredded, harsh white lights invaded his mind through his bloodshot eyes. His limbs felt numb and cold. His chest felt tight, a steel band pressed into his belly. It hurt, it hurt so much. His head felt as if it was split open. He tried to raise his hand, to probe his throbbing head, to see if it was, in fact split. His hands wouldn't move. He tried again, he couldn't lift his arms. He started to struggle, a fear he hadn't felt since he was a child, swelling in his chest, threatening to choke him. Every movement caused new explosions of stars to burst behind his eyes. He felt nauseous and suddenly, it wasn't fear that threatened to choke him, it was bile. Climbing up his throat like a living monster, tearing its way past his epiglottis, spilling over his dry, cracked lips, burning them, the vomit spewed out of his mouth. He gagged violently and tried to turn his head to the side. More suns went supernova in his head at the movement, and he suffered the pain for nothing, he couldn't even turn his head. He sputtered as the thick slimy substance dripped into his airway, effectively cutting off his supply of oxygen. He felt the pressure build behind his eyes as he strained to take another breath. His mouth opened and closed spasmodically, finally stilling as his eyes glazed over and the light left them.

* * *

Atlas dropped the steel girder back into place, locking the door in a way. Striya raced across the room and stopped breathlessly at the computer. She turned it on and waited impatiently for it to run its standard diagnostics. Atlas came up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Calm down Striya. Why don't you go get us something to eat? I'll deal with this."

Striya nodded mulishly. Walking to the replicator, she programmed two bowls of Goeshiu soup, the only thing this particular replicator could make. When they were ready, she carried one to Atlas. He set it down, close to hand and continued to stare at the computer screen. Striya pulled up a stool and sat close by, watching the information flit across the screen faster than she could register it. Atlas had plugged himself directly into the computer console. The fingers of his hand twitched as if he were typing. She ate automatically, her mind dazed and confused.

"See," Atlas said, picking up his bowl and digging into his food. "A message from Eric."

He opened the message, frowning as he concentrated on reading it. It was a short message with a massive amount of encrypted data attached. His frown deepened as he read the few lines from his friend.

_"I got the Admiral's data pad. Here is the data. She knows. Must run. Meet where we met, when we met. Good luck, and tell Striya I'll be fine."_ He read the message aloud. Striya's heart stopped beating. Eric, on the run! If they caught him…She didn't want to think about that. To distract herself she asked,

"What does that mean? Where you met, when you met?" Atlas explained.

"We met at the scrap processing plant off Prince Street. I was looking for replacement parts not long after I arrived and he was looking for the parts to repair an antique Harley. We ran into each other near the remnants of ancient clockworks. They were no longer functional but the hands of the clock read 11:57. I was wanted, then, still am actually. But he decided not to turn me in. His kindness is the reason I decided to help you."

"We'll go tomorrow night. "We'll meet Eric and bring him back here. I'm sure he can manage to stay out of trouble for one day. The sun is already up. It's been a long night. Let's get some rest." Atlas said, plugging himself into the power grid to recharge his depleted power cells. He opened the encryption program on his computer and set it to work breaking the encrypted file he had gotten from Coulter's office and the ones sent by Eric. He lowered his huge bulk into an armchair and nodded at Striya. "We should know more by tonight." He mumbled sleepily.

She gave his hand a squeeze and wandered into his bedroom. She stretched out on his cot and thought of Eric. Was he really going to be ok? Atlas seemed confident that he would, but she wasn't so sure…She rolled herself up in the blankets and lay awake until dusk.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note - Hope you like this chapter! Things are starting to heat up. Please read and review; I love hearing what you guys think!**

**All My Love,**

**Gayle**

**Chapter 9**

Atlas looked down kindly on the still form of Striya. She had finally nodded off a few hours ago. He could hear her tossing and turning all night, no doubt worried about Eric. He was too, though he would never say so to her. She was very attached to the boy. He knew she would insist on coming to his rendezvous with Eric, which is why he didn't wake her. They couldn't take the risk of her being spotted outside. Not everyone in the Labyrinth was as kind as he was. Many would turn her in if they could find her. No, she was safe here, and here is where she had to stay. He tucked the blankets more firmly around her, listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing. He turned and left the room.

Atlas peered around cautiously before hauling his huge bulk out of the tunnel. It was only a few blocks to the scrap plant and he had plenty of time to meet Eric. He made his way through the darkened streets of London, stopping in the shadows every time someone passed by. It was amazing how easily someone of his height and girth could hide in the shadows. Following not too closely, a thinner, more wiry shadow flitted. Stopping to take a long draw of the ever present cigarette, Se'mek narrowed his eyes and watched his quarry clamber awkwardly over the wall of the scrap plant. He laughed to himself, his dark eyes reflecting the bright red of his let cigarette, the smoke curling lazily around his head before being whisked away by the breeze.

* * *

Admiral Coulter stood over the man stretched naked on the table. His wrists were chained over his head, his ankles to the legs of the table. Strong straps across his throat, waist, and knees kept him immobile. A clamp inserted into his mouth held his jaws wide open. Blood ran from his nose, already congealing on his dark skin. Becker had attempted to beat information out of him. Dark purple bruises splotched across this chest, his arms, his face and legs; pretty much every part of him. He was soaked and shaking like a leaf from the cold. And it was very cold. The Admiral was dressed warmly in a large parka. The man had remained sullen and stubborn all through the interrogation thus far. She was secretly pleased. She didn't get to use the creature very often, and she had been wanting to. Her little pet was getting hungry again.

"Are you sure you have nothing to tell me, Eric?" She asked again, knowing he would say no. Eric Seymour shook his head, groaning softly as pain ricocheted through his body. She couldn't help but grin.

"I'm glad, you know. I so enjoy watching my little pet feast." She held up the jar so he could see it. "I almost feel sorry for you. Would you like to know what is going to happen?" She asked, the enjoyment obvious in her manner and voice.

"I'm going to let my little pet loose on you." She said, placing the jar in the middle of Eric's chest. She ran her finger over his bottom lip, "He is going to dig his way up through the roof of your mouth and into your brain. He loves brain, it's his favorite meal!" She said, winking at Eric.

"He'll much on your brain, and you will become very docile. In fact, you will do anything you are told to do, including answer my questions. Eventually, he will eat enough of your brain that it can no longer function and you will die in truly excruciating agony, but that will take hours, maybe even days. Sound like fun?"

Eric glared at her through the blood crusted around his eyes. Admiral Coulter laughed. She picked up the jar and shook it. A loud hissing erupted from inside the jar.

"Gotta get him all stirred up. You ready?" She began to unscrew the lid of the jar.

Suddenly her communicator beeped. She retightened the jar's lid and plopped it down in the middle of Eric's chest. She pulled the communicator from her belt and flipped it open.

"Admiral Coulter," she snapped, "Becker, this had better be good."

"Admiral, there is a malfunction in warehouse 37. Cryo-storage," He clarified.

"What kind of malfunction?" The Admiral looked at the ground in frustration.

"A power surge. Sensors indicate that one of the cryo-tube is now open. I am on my way to check it out now."

"I'll meet you there. And take back-up. If that son-of-a-bitch is awake again, we are in serious trouble."

"Is that even possible, Admiral?"

"How the hell would I know, Idiot? Just go find out!" Coulter snapped at her lackey and closed the communicator. She turned and hurled it against the wall, where is smashed into bits.

"Looks like you got lucky, Eric, my friend. I have a bigger problem to deal with and you'll have to wait. But you aren't going anywhere, so I'm not really worried. I'll tell you what though, I'll leave this here," she said, patting the top of the jar. It shook as the creature inside moved about angrily. It thrashed about, slamming into the sides of the jar.

"He's awake now, so I imagine he'll find his own way out." With that the Admiral turned and left the room. The jar tilted dangerously as the creature renewed its efforts for freedom and a meal.

* * *

Atlas stood in the shadows near the old clockworks. The face of the clock was partially buried in the ground, its hands perpetually reading 11:57. It was a fixture here at the plant and would never be recycled. Eric should have been here by now; it was ten minutes past midnight. Striya would probably be waking soon and would be terrified to fins him gone. Where was Eric? For the first time, Atlas began to really worry that something had happened to his friend. What of he'd been captured? He looked at his chronograph again. Atlas decided to give him 10 more minutes. If he hadn't shown up by then, Atlas would assume he was captured and act accordingly.

The minutes ticked by agonizingly slow. He gazed at the chronograph one more time. It was now 25 minutes past. He turned to go. A sound akin to a million angry bees invaded his ears as the electricity scorched through his system. He hit the ground hard, his eyes closing as a pair of black leather boots stepped into his view.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

As the massive bolt of electricity ripped through his system, Atlas's flesh brain shut down. His positronic net kicked into overdrive. Alarm sounds blared inside his brain and a single word appeared in his vision. _"Retreat, Retreat, Retreat," _flashed in bold red letters across his optical display. Atlas's cybernetics took over. His steel arm pushed him into a kneeling position, his legs carried him further. Soon he was running. It was an old failsafe programmed into all cyborgs from Tsusow. When the flesh components were neutralized, the robotic components automatically carried the body to a place of safety. He didn't climb the wall this time; he bound over it completely. He landed hard on the other side, leaving an indentation in the ground as his legs began running again, pumping hard. He had no thought for subtlety or stealth. When he came to a wall he couldn't leap, he punched through it, leaving a trail of broken stone and twisted metal behind him. Finally, he came to the entrance of the tunnels. He disappeared underground just as the security officers in their bright red shirts appeared on the scene.

Se'mek shook his head, slamming his fist into the wall in frustration. Tiny chips of red brick erupted from the point of impact. He shook out his hand and pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket. He lit one with a trembling hand. Atlas was scary enough. Atlas out of control was far worse. He had misjudged the amount of electricity to deliver to his prey. It was a delicate balance; knocking out the flesh brain without the failsafe kicking in. He picked up the phaser he had modified especially for Atlas. He stowed it in its holster in the back of his belt and cracked his knuckles. He would have another chance. He could wait. He rubbed his shaved head and scratched the scar tissue on his ears. He could wait.

* * *

Striya awoke with a start as a thunderous noise invaded the cave where she slept. Atlas stumbled in and collapsed into a heap of steel and blood on the floor. Striya ran to him. The scorch marks across his body were terrible to look at and she was forced to hold down the rising bile as the stench of burning assaulted her nostrils.

"Atlas, what happened? Where is Eric?" She said, grasping his head and lifting it into her lap. Atlas's lips moved but she couldn't tell if he was trying to speak or if they were just trembling. He trembled all over.

"Atlas! ATLAS!" She screamed at him, shaking him as hard as she could. Atlas stilled in her lap, the blue light of his optic interface slowly fading. She struggled out from under him and knelt beside him. They had agreed that she wouldn't use her powers any more than necessary until they found a way to remove the device. This was an emergency.

She placed her hands; fingers spread wide, on Atlas's chest and closed her eyes. She cast her mind, first into the Device, the PRD, shutting it off and secondly, into her friend's body. Slowly, she began to repair the damage done by Se'mek. It was extensive. She worked until the PRD reestablished contact and she was forced to stop. She turned and vomited violently on the floor. Atlas was still showing no signs of waking. She wiped her mouth and sat back on her heels, watching her friend. Eric, gone and now Atlas injured. She felt horrible; these people had been hurt because they had helped her. She began to cry.

She stopped suddenly when she heard voices and footsteps coming down the tunnel.

"You, lieutenant, and you ensign. Search down there. You two, come with me. Report if you find and trace of the thing." A stern female voice said.

"Yes Commander." Four voices answered in unison. Striya froze, her tears quite forgotten.

They were looking for Atlas!

She didn't know what to do. She sat huddled on the floor beside him and listened to the officers outside in the tunnel. Atlas had mentioned once that he was wanted…wanted for what she didn't know, but it wouldn't be good for either of them if they were found.

Finally, the search party moved away and Striya exhaled a breath she hadn't realized he was holding. She waited a few more minutes and returned to work on Atlas. If they continued to search, they would be found eventually and Atlas had to be awake by then.

* * *

Admiral Coulter stepped cautiously over the threshold. The door was crumpled to one side, like it had been forced open. And inside…inside was something out of a nightmare. Dead and maimed men and women lay strewn around the entrance like discarded dolls, their limbs twisted into impossible shapes and blood besmirching their uniforms. Never had she seen such carnage. Across the duty officer's desk lay Becker, his face smashed beyond recognition, his head attached to his shoulders only by a few inches of skin. It swung gently, a sickening sign that his death had only just occurred. He was awake! He was free! And he was here!

"Khan," She whispered, the name, the worst of curses, stumbling off of her leaden tongue. She turned her back on the carnage and raced to her vehicle. She didn't feel safe until she was back in her office. She sat, eyes wide and breathing quick and raspy.

This was beyond her control. She should have killed him while he slept. She should have killed them all. Everything had changed. Would he come after her? Did he know of her involvement in his enforced labor two years ago? There was nowhere safe for her to hide, nowhere he couldn't find her. Her brain was a simpering, stuttering mess. She had no idea what to do. She was unused to this feeling of terror. Not even when she faced the Klingons and all their brutal strength was she afraid. She knew she could control them. This man was beyond the control of anyone. With a trembling hand, she poured herself a large whiskey and sat back in her chair to think.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Ta'pinel looked down at the body of Lieutenant Kowalski. It lay crumpled at the bottom of a waste compactor. It was hard to tell the cause of death under all the damage caused by the heavy machine. But it looked like he had a broken neck. She stooped and moved the head, getting a better look at the neck of the victim. She stood, making notes in her data pad.

"You may remove the body." She said to the coroner's assistants that stood waiting. They lifted Kowalski into a body bag and zipped him in as best they could. His body was mangled and crushed from its trip through the compactor. They lifted the bag onto an antigravity sledge and slowly trundled their way to the waiting van. Ta'pinel turned to her assistant, a mousy young man who had just made lieutenant.

"Please ascertain at what time the autopsy will be conducted. It is imperative that we attend."

"Yes, Ma'am. Anything else?"

"Yes. Compile all the information you can on the Lieutenant, everything, and bring it to my office. His superior officer will have to be notified."

"Yes, Inspector," said Morgan Chambers, trying not to stare at his superior's ears. They had worked together for over six months and the Vulcan's ears still managed to creep him out. He turned and scurried away, following his orders.

* * *

Eric Seymour did his best to control his breathing. He had no idea how long he had been lying here, strapped to this table. The creature inside the jar continued to writhe about, attempting to smash through the precariously balanced glass. Very slowly his mind began to clear. He didn't remember much. The last thing was running across the bridge. As his mind cleared, he remembered more: falling into the river, Becker hauling him out by his hair, the beatings. The jar rattled again, dragging his attention back to the here and now. He looked on in horror as the glass began to splinter. It wouldn't be long before the creature was loose.

* * *

Striya stretched out beside Atlas on the floor of their hideout. She had finished repairing the damage he had sustained but Atlas had yet to regain consciousness. She plugged him into the power grid as she had seen him do and attempted to charge his power cells. Her worry increased every day. She had no idea what to do. Even if she knew where to find help, she couldn't get out to get it. There was still no word from Eric. She feared he was dead, or worse. Long, slow minutes ticked by as she lay awake and waited.

Finally, Atlas began to stir. He groaned groggily and opened his eye. His optical interface glowed, faintly at first, then brightly. His limbs twitched and he sat up. His eye focused on Striya's worried face.

"It's been ages since that happened. Are you all right, Striya?" He asked, rubbing his hand over his head. Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet. "How long have I been out?"

"About 24 hours. I repaired the damage as best I could. That leg will need to be replaced though and soon. It isn't structurally sound anymore. I think I might have found a replacement at a scrap yard in Croydon. We will need to check it out. What happened?"

Atlas explained about the attack at the Prince Street processing plant and the failsafe. Striya listened intently and when he was finished she asked.

"Do you know who that guy was? And what about Eric? If he didn't show up, does that mean he's been captured?"

"Striya, slow down." He said, putting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing it gently. He walked to the replicator. As he programed the food, he continued.

"I don't know who that guy was. I can hack into security recorders for the area and try to get an image of him. And we can safely assume that Eric has been captured or killed. I'll also hack into the morgue computer system and see if a body has been found. In the meantime, let's eat and see about getting to Croydon."

"It's only 20 minutes away by train, much faster than using the tunnel system. The next train leaves in an hour." She said, consulting her data pad. Atlas finished his soup and limped to his computer terminal. He sent a worm into the London morgue computer system. He sent another into the data archive for the security recorders.

"These bots will trawl for information while we are gone." He lifted a hand held device and attached it to his robotic arm. It had been retrofitted to connect to the cylinder that was his right arm. "If they find anything, it will be sent directly to me here. Let's go."

"Atlas, wait! There were police down here looking for you, after what happened in the processing plant."

"Oh, were they? Well they won't find anything. They have been looking for me for over 20 years. Never even came close…" He said, with a hint of pride in his voice.

He shambled into his bedroom and opened the door to a cabinet. He pulled a huge dull brown overcoat of cracked leather from inside and slipped it on. He pulled the hood low over his face. The masses of fabric disguised his cybernetics perfectly. He pulled a smaller coat out of the closet for her. It was of dark red leather and in much better condition than Atlas's coat. It was so long that it swept the floor but it also concealed her features and form to perfection. She pulled the hood up, resting it so that the edge came down to just above her eyes and cinched the belt around her waist. She smiled at him.

"As cold as it is supposed to be tonight, no one will wonder at the long coats. Come, we have plenty of time to make the train."

* * *

The tall thin man walked silently through the warehouse, his frigid gaze taking in everything. He meandered through the row upon row of cryo-tubes. He counted slowly in his head. They were all there. All 72 crew members were safe and accounted for. He walked through again, finding the tube he was looking for. He caressed the edges of the icy prison, a thin smile turning up the corners of his mouth. He opened the access panel and began the sequence to awaken the person inside. Slowly the flesh inside the tube began to thaw. Color returned to the pale cheeks and finally, with a soft beep and a hiss, the lid of the cryo-tube opened and the woman inside opened her eyes. She smiled at Khan and he smirked at her. He took her hand and assisted her in exiting the cryo-tube.

"Hello, my love." She said, leaning in for a kiss.

His lips met hers in a long kiss rife with passionate longing.

"Marla, my love. My wife. I have missed you." He replied.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note – Sorry for such a long wait for this chapter. I had a lot of trouble getting it started. I hope I got Khan's personality right. I hope you enjoy it and please review. Many thanks,**

**Gayle**

**Chapter 12**

It wasn't long before Khan and Marla freed the rest of their companions. In his clear and concise manner, he told them of the events since he was awakened the first time, his arm clamped protectively around his wife Marla. Many times through the narrative, he had to pause to calm the angry shouts of his crew. After he finished, she voiced the question on everyone's mind.

"Where do we go from here?"

"We should leave this planet."

"No, we should stay and make them pay for what they did to us."

"Be silent!" Marla shouted. "We will do as our Captain commands, as always. What do you think dear?" She asked, leaning towards Khan for a kiss. He kissed her gently and said,

"I have had enough of this planet. There is no place for us here. We will procure a ship and leave this place…in ashes." He grinned grimly at his crew. "They are inferior to us in all aspects. They must not be allowed to breed." The crew cheered and Khan began to give orders. It didn't take long for Khan's crew to catch up on 300 years of technological advancement.

"Here Captain. I believe I have found a ship for us." Said the man in charge of the search. "It's at a shipyard in someplace called Croydon." He said the name slowly, as if testing it. Then he continued. "It's the right size for our needs and according to this information, it has the latest in warp technology and weapons. It is a new class of ship, Imperion Class, with telekinetic control capabilities. It is not complete though, work was halted by an Admiral Coulter." Khan leaned down, looking eagerly at the screen.

"It's close enough. We could finish the work ourselves after we have decimated this planet. Stay here and begin preparations. I will investigate the ship."

"Aye, Captain," was the chorus of replies.

* * *

The train slowed gently, finally coming to a stop amid the bright lights of Croydon Station. Atlas and Striya exited the train, making for the street. Soon, they melted into the crowd. There were so many people on the street; it was odd for this time of night. There were bright banners and flags snapping in the wind, as if they too were as excited as the crowd. There was the loud hum of hundreds of voices all talking at once. Atlas and Striya wove their way through the festival atmosphere and jostling masses. The anticipation mounted; Striya could practically taste it as she watched the smiling faces around her. She tugged on Atlas's sleeve to slow him down.

"What is it? What are they waiting for?" She asked. Before he could answer, three bright rockets blasted a trail into the sky with a pop and a long whistle. They hung in the air for a moment and the crowd collectively held their breath. The rockets exploded, shattering the dark November sky with a myriad of colors: reds, blues, greens, purples, yellows and oranges. The crowd began cheering, screaming their approval. More rockets soared into the sky, exploding and showering cinders over the land below.

"That," Atlas said, pointing upward with his flesh hand, "Fireworks, I think they're called. Ancient earth tradition, rockets filled with minerals that burn in different colors. Shoot them up into the sky, they explode and create the light show. It must be a holiday…" He finished, looking around.

"Beautiful…" Striya stared, captivated by the brilliant colors.

"Striya, love, we can't stop. We need to find that scrap yard. I can feel my leg starting to give out." Reluctantly, Striya nodded and pulled her gaze from the spectacular light show. The two hurried through the crowd, finally reaching the street where the scrap yard was located. The scrap yard looked deserted. Striya found a door around the side of the truly immense building. Atlas ripped it off. They froze, half expecting an alarm to cry out their intrusion. All was silent. In the distance, they could still hear the pop/whistle of the fireworks and the screams of the crowd that followed. They entered the building, Atlas activating his light.

"Where is it located?" He asked Striya. She consulted her data pad a moment.

"All cybernetics are in the basement. This way." She led the way down several flights of stairs. They got to the basement and Atlas opened the door in that subtle way he had. Striya couldn't help but smile. Atlas entered first. The lights were already on. Instead of the endless stacks of shelves they expected what they found was a massive hanger. Inside was a huge space ship, its deep black hull gleaming in the overhead lights. A man and a woman came towards them from the opposite end of the hanger.

"I think we took a wrong turn…"Striya murmured, fear tinting the edge of her voice.

"I think you're right."

The man growled and launched himself at Atlas. Striya screamed as the woman grabbed her by the throat and lifted her clear off the floor. The woman's grip was like iron as she squeezed Striya's throat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Atlas fall under the man's attack. She struggled like a butterfly in a net, tears trickling from her eyes as she watched Khan pound Atlas with his fists, crushing bones and denting metal. Atlas started to smoke as he struggled to get out from under Khan. Khan grabbed Atlas by the head and began to squeeze, trying to crush his head between his hands like he had Admiral Marcus's. Striya couldn't even scream. Darkness danced at the edges for her vision as Marla crushed her windpipe. She kicked spasmodically as she passed out.

* * *

Eric breathed slowly through his nose, trying not to expand his chest and upset the jar. He knew not how long he had lain there. He tried to subtly stretch his muscles. He flexed his hands and ran them over the bar to which they were cuffed. The scratching of metal on metal seemed to annoy the creature inside the jar. It hissed angrily, rubbing against the glass. Eric moved more slowly after that, so as to not antagonize the beast further. One end of the bar felt sharp and rough, like rust had begun to set in. Tentatively, he pushed on it; it gave a centimeter. If he could get it loose, he could free himself.

He knew that Atlas and Striya would know by now that something was wrong. He knew that if they were able, they would try to rescue him. But he didn't think he could wait much longer. He was feeling the effects of the beatings and nearly dying twice in as many hours. His whole body was stiff and even breathing hurt terribly. Plus the ever-present danger of the critter inside the jar. If it would do what the Admiral said it would do…he suppressed a shudder and focused instead on making his own escape.

He pushed harder on the bar, wiggling it back and forth. The creature hissed again and squirmed, its massive, insatiable hunger driving it on to greater efforts. The cracks in the jar spread out like a spider's web. Eric put more effort into breaking the bar. The jar wobbled precariously. Eric held his breath, immediately stilling his movements. As the jar rocked on its base, the creature slammed its body hard into the side of the jar. The jar hung in midair for a fraction of a second, then toppled from Eric's chest toward the floor.

* * *

Ta'pinel looked down again at the corpse of Kowalski. This time, stretched under a white sheet on a slab in the coroner's lab, a neatly stitched up "Y" incision in his chest. Doctor Pardere walked out of the back room, rubbing his hands on a towel.

"Hello Inspector."

"Hello Doctor. What can you tell me about the Lieutenant?"

"A human male, Caucasian, approximately 25 years in age, in seemingly perfect health."

"Then how did he end up at the bottom of a trash compactor. The trash cutes in the apartment building are hardly wide enough for a child to fit through. An adult certainly wouldn't be able to." Morgan said.

Ta'pinel nodded. It was a good observation. This young man would perhaps one day be a shrewd investigator.

"Unless he had help…" the doctor said

"Help?" Ta'pinel asked, raising one eyebrow in true Vulcan fashion.

"You see the fractures in the neck here? You only get those from twisting the head." He said, pointing to a monitor on the wall. He waved a wand-like device over the neck area and images of the bones appeared on the monitor. Ta'pinel walked over and studied the images.

"Is this the cause of death, Doctor?"

"Oh no the compactor is most likely what killed him. These fractures would have left him paralyzed but they wouldn't have killed him. Someone put him in that compactor. There is bruising to indicate he was wedged into the chute. Once he was inside, the chute would have pulled him down, whether he fit or not."

"How long has he been dead?"

"Not long, at least 48 hours, but no more than 96, judging by the condition of the remains. His organs were too damaged to get a liver temp."

"Hmm, anything else of note Doctor?" she asked

"No, Inspector."

"Thank you." Ta'pinel said with a curt nod of her head. She turned and left the morgue, Morgan running behind. They had a murder to deal with.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note - Sorry for the wait. I have had lots of writing to do lately. I hope you all enjoy this one.**

**Gayle**

**Chapter 13**

Ta'pinel stood at her desk, gazing down at her data pad. She flipped through the photos taken of the crime scene. Evidence was scant. The photos gave no clues as to how Lieutenant Kowalski ended up at the bottom of a trash compactor. Morgan knocked on her office door.

"Come," she called. The young man stuck his head in.

"The security recorder data from the night in question. Do you want to review it now?"

"Yes, bring it here." Morgan walked up to her desk and placed his data pad in her hands. She plugged it into her computer console and pressed the play button. Morgan walked around and stood behind her, peering over her shoulder at the inordinately grainy footage.

"It's terrible quality. The tech guys tried to clean it up, but this is the best they could do. The data is partially corrupted." The images rolled on, showing Kowalski leaving his apartment, caught by the camera at the end of the hallway. He should have appeared on the footage of the next camera as he rounded the corner but he didn't.

"Most curious." Ta'pinel said, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms across her chest.

"You are sure that this is all of the footage?"

"Yes ma'am. I collected it myself."

"Does nothing about this seem odd to you, Lieutenant?" she asked, gently probing. No chance to teach should be wasted.

"Yes, ma'am. I mean the quality for one thing. It looks like one of those old Blu-ray movies from the 21st century. I mean, the color is off, the sound doesn't sync with the images. Then there…See that? It was like a blip on the screen. At a guess, I'd say someone tampered with the footage. And they must have rushed through it."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, it has all the basics for a really good fabrication but, those mistakes. Whoever did it must have been in a hurry, and didn't take the time to clean it up."

"I agree," Ta'pinel said. See if you can retrieve the original footage. I must inform the Lieutenant's superior officer."

"Yes, ma'am," Morgan shuffled off to his desk and began the long and arduous process of rebuilding the corrupted data.

* * *

Atlas's robotic eye roved, catching sight of Marla as she let Striya fall to the floor. Marla watched her husband as he struggled with Atlas. Atlas diverted much of his remaining power to his cybernetic arm. He cursed his weakness. If he was at full strength, Khan, even augmented as he is, could not stand against him for long. The arm rotated and a claw-like appendage clicked into place. Atlas gripped Kahn by the shoulder and slowly extended his arm. He lifted Khan off of him, rising from the floor as he did.

"Now just calm down. I don't know who you are but I can guess. You are Khan. My name is Atlas."

"What do you want here?" Khan asked, attempting to break out of Atlas's grip.

"We were looking for cybernetics storage. We took a wrong turn. Let me take the girl and leave."

"You can barely stand, Atlas. That leg won't take another direct hit." Said Khan calmly, acting as if he hadn't just trying to crush Atlas with his bare hands.

"If I want to take you down, I can…"

"Sure, you can beat me in a fight, as weak as I am right now. But I'm not exactly playing fair."

He tightened his claw on Khan's shoulder, digging through the fabric and just barely scratching the surface of his skin. Khan felt with interest the burning sensation tingle on his skin.

"What is that?" He asked, as if this was an everyday occurrence, his voice betraying nothing of his curiosity.

"Curare, an old Terran poison, very deadly to humans. Even augmented ones."

Very slowly, the adversaries released each other and changed places. Atlas walked over and kneeled next to Striya. He placed two fingers against her next and was relieved to feel a pulse. She was only unconscious. Khan joined his wife, slipping a protective arm around her waist. She kissed his cheek and he smiled briefly. Atlas hefted Striya in his arms. He walked past Khan and Marla carrying the unconscious girl. He stopped outside the building and set her on the ground. He searched through her pockets, hoping that her data pad was still there. It was.

He scrolled through her information. There should be cybernetics parts here…there it was. They had taken the wrong staircase. He waited two hours. Khan and his wife should have left by now. Striya was showing no signs of stirring. He opened a panel in his chest and pulled out a small capsule of G-165. These were the same Nanites he had used on her earlier. He set the hypo spray and injected her. She woke suddenly, turning over and vomiting. They decided that the Nanites caused her to be sick because of the PRD. It wasn't supposed to be there and the Nanites tried to remove it.

She sat up blinking. When she realized what happened and saw Atlas sitting beside her she squealed like a child at Christmas and threw her arms around his neck.

"You're ok!" She whispered through her tears. "How?"

"Khan and I came to an agreement. A ceasefire if you will. We decided not to kill each other right now."

"That was Khan?" She asked, "Did you ask…?"

"I never got a chance, love. I'm sorry."

"Well, I am glad that you're ok." She said, slowly getting to her feet.

"I'm going back in." He started to say.

"What?! Why?!"

"I still need to upgrade my parts, love. I want you to stay here and rest. I won't be long. No don't argue. I saw where we got lost. I can get there now. I'll be right back."

Striya saw it was useless to argue and she did feel so very tired. She nodded her agreement and sat down in the shadow of the building. She watched Atlas slip quietly back into the plant. She thought about what had happened earlier. Her abilities were atrophying. She tried to use her power to escape from that woman but she couldn't even move a strand of her hair. She had to get this awful device out of her head. Before it was her death.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note – I am really sorry for such a long wait. I hope you think it's worth it. Lotsa stuff happening in this one. Enjoy! And as always, please review. **

**Many thanks,**

**Gayle**

**Chapter 14**

Atlas quickly found the cybernetics part of the warehouse. As he browsed for a proper replacement for his leg, he began to pick up other cybernetic implants that he thought would be useful; a perfectly good back-up power cell, a new-still-in-the-package optical implant, with improved infrared capabilities, a phase cannon, a scanner, even a complete suite of cybernetic armor. He grinned like a child at Christmas. Armor! Finally he found what he had been looking for, the section where the limbs were stored. Most were inadequate, either too small or too damaged.

He was about to give up when he saw them. A matched set. Two perfect legs. They were used, but in good condition. He lowered himself carefully to the floor. He disconnected his right leg first. He inserted the rods and attached the pins to connect the leg to his torso. He attached the wires and flexed his new limb. It whirred gently as the gears and pistons reacted. He repeated the process with the left leg. He replaced the other attachments quickly and stood up. He pulled a tube of lubricant from a carrier compartment built into his side. He oiled all of his joints and returned the tube to its compartment. He went through his range of motion, testing his new appendages. He grinned again, strapping on the armor. It made him look like he was made completely of metal. The phase cannon filled a place on his right arm once held by a Romulan disrupter. The scanner was a definite upgrade. He ran an internal diagnostic and calibration. The cybernetics had been made for a human cyborg, and as such, required some tweaking to accommodate his physiology. As he waited for it to complete, he mentally evaluated his tools. He had the phase cannon, the scanner, a listening device, the claw tipped with curare, the micro data pad. He still had room for a few more tools. He heard a beeping, which indicated that all systems were synchronized and ready for use.

He quickly made his way back to Striya. He emerged from the doorway, his movements almost silent thanks to the lubricant. He stopped short. Looking around, he made sure it was the right place. It was. This is where he had left her, but the Endrean girl was nowhere to be seen. Atlas used his new scanner to search the area. Someone had carried her off. He set off, following the microscopic trail left behind by their boots.

* * *

Striya never woke as Se'mek lifted her over his shoulder. Very foolish of Atlas to leave the girl unattended; there was still a reward for her. He had wedged her inside a large canvas bag, knotting the drawstring tightly over her head. A cursory inspection told him that she was very weak, unconscious, perhaps on the verge of being comatose. She would be no trouble as he took her back to London. He grinned and relit a half smoked cigarette. The other passengers on the train gave him looks of great disgust but he ignored them, keeping a watchful eye on his prize.

* * *

Eric froze, time stretching as the fragile glass jar swayed and tumbled from its perch on his chest. He closed his eyes, flinching at the sound of shattered glass that never came. He strained his limbs, trying to see what happened. The jar bounced, adding more threads to the spider's web fracture, but it proved stronger than he expected. The jar rolled out of his line of sight. He immediately renewed his efforts to free himself. Something bad must have happened. Neither the Admiral nor Becker had returned for him. He could only guess at the amount of time, but it had to have been days.

He grunted and struggled, finally wrenching the bar free with a loud ping. He slowly lowered his arms and rested them on his chest. They were still cuffed together. The sharp metal had scored him deeply, leaving bloody gouges in his dark skin. He sat up, his stomach rumbling ominously as he did.

"Shut up," he told it, "That isn't helping." He examined his body. Large greeny-purple bruises covered most of his torso, arms, and legs. The cuts on his wrists looked infected. He eased himself gingerly down from the table, gasping as his bare feet touched the cold hard floor. The room's walls were shiny and he could see his reflection warped by the metal. He looked like death, plain and simple. He rubbed his hands over his face, gritting his teeth and groaning as he touched a previously undiscovered wound on his head.

The jar rattled in the corner. Eric glanced at it in disgust as he began his examination of the room. There was no knob or handle on the inside, no windows. Thankfully the lights had been left on. There was a tiny vent near the ceiling for airflow. Even if he could reach it, which he couldn't, even standing on the table, there was no way he would fit through it. The only thing in the room besides himself and the creature was the table. He picked up the bar he had broken and began prying at the door jam, doing his best to ignore the hissing of the insect in the jar and the grumbling of his own belly.

* * *

Ta'pinel was on her way to another crime scene. A "bloodbath," Chambers had called it when he informed her. As least eight dead and they were still finding bodies. She entered the warehouse's main entrance, her nose wrinkling for a fraction of a second as the hideous odor of decomposing flesh hit her sensitive Vulcan senses like the proverbial ton of bricks. Chambers was correct. Dried blood was caked to almost every surface. Morgan met her by the door.

"What do we know, Lieutenant?" She asked, getting down to business.

"So far the body count is twelve; they found more bodies in the sublevel car park."

"Any word on the identities of the victims?" She asked, skirting a young man hunched over, taking photographs of a corpse.

"No, not yet. It's odd. They are wearing Starfleet uniforms, but they have no insignia. No ID."

"Take fingerprints and see if you get any matches." Ta'pinel ordered. She left soon afterwards. She had received a communication from Dr. Pardere asking her to stop by his office. He had something interesting to show her.

She strode into Dr. Pardere's office alone, having left Morgan Chambers at the warehouse to oversee the collection of evidence.

"There is something you wished me to see?" she asked.

"Ah yes Inspector. Here," he handed her a data pad filled with photographs. They were of Kowalski, the lieutenant that had met his death at the bottom of a trash compactor. There were extreme close-ups of his neck area. There against the creamy white of his skin were several small round purple splotches. She flipped through more photos. Her right eyebrow raised in surprise.

"Yes I know," remarked the good doctor. "It's a severely outdated technique, raising fingerprints on skin. I don't know what possessed me to try it. I plugged them into the system. We should be getting the results back soon." As if on cue, his computer terminal beeped, signaling the end of its search.

"Only one hit, but it is a ninety-seven percent match, to a man named Adam Becker. A former Starfleet Commander, he received a dishonorable discharge from Starfleet and a lengthy term in prison for attempting mutiny. He escaped fifteen years ago; hasn't been seen or heard of since." The doctor read aloud. He sent the rest of the file on Becker to Ta'pinel's data pad. She gazed down at his face, studying it. Recognition dawned. He was one of her warehouse victims.

"Thank you Doctor. You have been most helpful." She said, with a slight bow. She turned and walked briskly to her office, reading the rest of the file as she did. Becker had once been engaged to a Felicia Coulter, now a Starfleet Admiral. She pressed the button to contact her superiors. She would need to get clearance to question the Admiral.

* * *

Admiral Coulter had spent several days in abject terror. She expected Khan to descend on her at any moment. As the long hours passed slowly, she began to relax. If he was coming for her, he would have found her by now, surely. She returned to her office, sitting comfortably in her chair, reading reports of Klingon raids against outlying planets and outposts. The other Admirals were in a tizzy, arguing about how to stop them. She grinned, she couldn't help it. Despite the recent setbacks, things were progressing rather nicely. Her communicator beeped; she answered it lazily. A thin voice as raspy as bark, crackled over the device.

"I have something you want, Admiral. What is the girl worth to you?"

"You've found her? That is excellent. I will gladly pay you double the offered reward if you could hand her over to me tonight."

"Fine with me. I will meet you in the lobby of the east wing of the Nordstrom Tower, 0200 hours. Bring the latinum and come alone. I see anybody else; I'm gone and you can pull this pretty thing out of the river." Se'mek stopped speaking and took a long drag of his cigarette. He blew the smoke in Striya's barely conscious face, making her cough weakly. He grinned maliciously and turned his attention back to the Admiral.

"Do we have a deal?" He asked.

"We do." She said, flipping the communicator closed. Finally, some good news!

* * *

Khan and Marla stood watching as his crew worked to complete the ship. The foreman, a man named Jesim walked up to him and saluted.

"Captain, we have run into some trouble."

"Trouble?" Asked Khan, his eyes narrowing on his crewman.

"This ship was designed to be flown completely by telekinesis. It doesn't have the necessary equipment to manually control the vessel. We will have to retrofit pieces from a constellation class or a dreadnaught class star ship. It's going to take a long time, a month at least."

"You have the parts you need?" Marla asked.

"Yes, Ma'am. I have already ordered the crews to begin retrofitting the ship."

"Good," Khan said, "Keep me apprised of your progress."

"Yes Captain," Jesim saluted and returned to his work.

Marla looped her arm around Khan's waist as his arms wound around her shoulder.

"Not long now, my love. We will soon be free of this place." He smiled down at her silently.


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note - As a special treat for waiting for so long...two chapters at once! I hope you enjoy them. Please read and review! **

**Gayle**

**Chapter 15**

Atlas followed the footprints until they entered a train car. This train had been the return trip to London. Atlas thought immediately of the dark figure that had attacked him when he had gone to his meeting with Eric. Atlas boarded the train, shuffling to the back of the carriage. He took a seat, pulling the hood of his long leather coat further over his face. The train slid smoothly out of the station, speeding its way toward London.

The program he had downloaded to search for information had finally returned with something. During the train ride, he reviewed the data. There wasn't much. No bodies matching Eric's description had been found or were listed in the morgue records. The security footage was all but useless. His attacker had managed to avoid getting his face on any of the cameras. There was some more information on Coulter. He glanced at it as the train came to a halt. At first he thought there wasn't a lead but then something caught his eye. There were several warehouses listed as empty, and the deeds were in the Admiral's name. He stepped off the train, stopping on the platform. He stood silently, an island amid the teeming sea of people, hacking into the London Department of Utilities mainframe. Usage data suggested that those warehouses were not as empty as they were supposed to be. He chose the warehouse that had used the most power. He quickly made his way there. He could only hope that Striya or Eric was being kept there.

* * *

Admiral Coulter looked calm outwardly as she gazed across her desk at Inspector Ta'pinel and Lieutenant Morgan. Inside, she was seething. Trust them to find the connection between Becker and herself. She held the Vulcan's gaze, lies slipping past her smiling lips. Yes she had been engaged to Adam Becker, but she hadn't seen him since he had broken off their engagement and tried to commandeer a starship. She had no idea that he was in London, or what he had been doing for the last fifteen years. Certainly, she had no idea why he would have murdered a young and promising lieutenant. Was she surprised to hear that he, himself, had been brutally murdered, with days of killing Kowalski? No. Considering his past, and the life he must have been leading, it was not surprising…He must have had enemies. Well, no, she had no idea what those Starfleet personnel had been doing in that disused warehouse or who could have killed them. Perhaps Becker had been trying to obtain another Starfleet ship?

Morgan's fingers flew as he took notes of everything that was said. Ta'pinel asked, finally,

"The warehouse is listed as your property. Do expect me to believe that you know nothing of what transpired there?"

"No, Inspector. The building isn't my property. It merely falls under my supervision. That is why my name is on the deed."

"What is the purpose of this warehouse?" Morgan asked.

"Storage. Surplus ship parts, water heaters, refrigeration units, and such." She answered readily.

"Do you have an inventory list?" he asked.

"Of course, Lieutenant." She said, her smile tightening. She transferred the files to Morgan's data pad.

"Thank you for your time, Admiral. We may have more questions at a later time." Ta'pinel explained, standing.

"Of course, Inspector. My door is always open, feel free to stop in anytime."

Ta'pinel nodded in acknowledgement of the Admiral's offer. He left the Admiral's office, Morgan trailing a step behind.

"That was a complete load o' bull." Morgan said. Ta'pinel's brows furrowed and her head tilted to the side at the use of an unfamiliar word. Morgan quickly translated.

"Lies," he said. Her face returned to its usual calm mask.

"I agree with your assessment, Lieutenant. The Admiral was untruthful during most of the interview. Look into the Admiral's records; I want to know what she is hiding."

* * *

Se'mek puffed nervously on a cigarette, waiting for the Admiral to show. Striya groaned softly; her head hurt so much. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the nausea and dizziness. This caused vibrant stars and swirls to burst behind her eyes, reminding her of the fireworks she and Atlas had witnesses only that night. Tears leaked out past her tightly shut eyelids.

"Shut your mouth," Se'mek snarled at her. "I don't want to hear any noise out of you." He raised his hand as if to backhand her. She flinched away from the blow, struggling weakly against the confines of the canvas bag that held her motionless.

The door to the lobby opened slowly and Admiral Coulter entered. She wore a long coat against the chill outside, its collar turned up to hide her face. She hauled on the strap of an antigravity sledge, dragging it behind her. The sledge carried two bags large black duffle bags containing the promised latinum. Se'mek came to meet her in the center of the floor, setting his own bag on the floor at his feet. Striya moaned as she was jostled roughly. Admiral Coulter knelt down and peered into Striya's face. The Endrean looked seriously ill. This had happened to all of the test subjects. It was a side effect of the PRD. Still, once the girl died, an examination of her brain would prove enlightening.

Se'mek had been examining his bag of latinum during this time. He stood, nodding to show that everything was as it should. Admiral Coulter grabbed the bag containing Striya and hefted it onto the sledge, beside the bags of latinum. Se'mek grabbed the straps of the first duffle bag. His hand never reached it. A blast from the Admiral's phaser stopped him permanently. She turned and left, stepping over the dead body of Se'mek. He had seen her face, he had to do.

* * *

Atlas stood watching the warehouse. It was an immense, forbidding structure. Several windows were broken and had been boarded up. He waited in the shadows of the building across the street. There was no movement around the warehouse the whole day, no one came or went. As night fell again and an atmosphere of twilight descended on London, Atlas made his way quietly into the warehouse. He remembered Striya laughing at what she called his subtle way. He grinned grimly and punched a hole beside the entry panel of the warehouse door. He found the wires leading to the security system and severed them. Then he ripped out the wires responsible for keeping the door closed. The door hissed open. Atlas entered cautiously; he had no idea what he could expect but he was determined not to be taken by surprise.

Lights flicked on as he progressed down each hallway. He strained his ears, but heard nothing to indicate that he wasn't alone. He had searched all of the upper floors and made his way to the basement level. Here, he heard noises, groans, grunts, screams and, machinery. He turned down a long hallway lined with thick steel doors. Each door was set with a tiny glass window hidden behind a sliding steel panel. The noises emanated from behind the doors. He slide open the panel of the first door. The person inside was twitching exhaustingly, moaning incoherently. He moved to the next door; the person inside was screaming hysterically. He shut the panel. In every cell, a person gibbered or screamed, or writhed in agony. At the cell of the end of the hall, there was a different sound. This was a steady grinding bang accompanied by words he could actually understand. Words that would make the most hardened sailor blush. He slowly slid open the panel. His eyes catching sight of the man inside striking at the door jam with a leg broken from the table over turned in the center of the room. The man was nude and covered in bruises. The man spewed another string of expletives as the leg slipped and he barked his knuckles on the door. He didn't realize that he was observed.

"Eric," Atlas said quietly.


End file.
